Growth

Looking back on the past two years or so, I've realized something.

I have grown. Spiritually, physically, and emotionally, that is.

I remember a simpler time when I was young, naive, and worry-free. I had a group of friends who, at the time, really cared for me and liked me. I was oblivious to my step-mom and father's relationship slowly, but surely, breaking down. The fact that my dad wasn't saved and didn't care for the word of God didn't faze me at all.

Now, it's so much different.

I've started hanging out with a different crowd; the older crowd. Once I realized how mature I had gotten, my old friends stopped wanting to hang with me, to talk to me, to be interested in me. And it hurt for a long, long time. But I realized that I couldn't even relate to them anymore, they just weren't at the same maturity level anymore. So I moved on. I got over it and made friends with people that really, truly care about me. That doesn't mean I can't be nice to them, of course. I'll be friendly around them, but if they want to all of a sudden "hang out sometime, I haven't seen you in forever, we never talk anymore," I will politely decline. Because I don't want to spend time with those that didn't care, saw that I gave up and didn't care anymore, and want to make nice and be friends again.

And I've seen more recently how... terrible my stepmom is. I know that sounds really mean, but it is so true. You know those kids you see out in public throwing temper tantrums and demanding things and stuff? And you're like, "Those kids is going to be so spoiled when they grow up"?

She is that kid.

I just... I don't even want to elaborate on it, because it'll take up this entire post. Let's just put it like this... It's gotten so bad that I dread spending weekends at my dad's now.

And so we've reached the more touchy subject. My dad was never a man of faith... He's not even a man who was into his feelings. He's very passive aggressive. I struggle seeing him like this, because I myself am very, very into my feelings, and I just want to share stuff with him like I do with my mom, but it's so hard.

And there's nights that I just sit in bed and wonder... I can't even get him to talk about God, how am I going to show him the gospel? What if I can't do it, can't convert him, can't save him? What if I don't see my dad in heaven? It would haunt me and scare me and I would cry so much.

I learned that when I can't do anymore, when I've done all that I can possibly do, the only thing left to do is let God work in him. I can't save him by myself, and although it really hurts because I'm just me, I need to let God take care of it. I still struggle with it, but I pray every night that he has an epiphany one day, and realizes the only way to be happy is to live for God.

And that's how I've grown. My mind has been thinking about my faith and the people I surround myself with that my younger self would never even consider. I am so grateful God has opened my eyes, and opened up my soul for Him to work in me.

He knew I needed it.